


Grecian John

by InnerSpectrum



Series: February 2021 Johnlock Prompt Challenge [18]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: February 2021 Johnlock Prompt Challenge, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:26:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29649228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: Sherlock and John spend a few days touring Greece and John is given a gift that leaves Sherlock wanting...
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Series: February 2021 Johnlock Prompt Challenge [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138172
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44
Collections: February 2021 Johnlock prompt challenge from ohlooktheresabee





	Grecian John

**Author's Note:**

> February 2021 Johnlock Prompt Challenge from ohlooktheresabee. Prompt: Greece

Their smuggling case was solved, and with John having never been to the country before; Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were spending a few extra days in Greece. Sherlock, at first non-plussed by the beauty he has seen before and committed to memory, found himself enjoying it anew, seeing it through the wonder of John’s eyes.

Of course, John just had to see the ancient Parthenon, the classic Greek temple to the goddess Athena, perched atop the Acropolis in the center of Athens. And like many people, John was surprised to learn the Propylaea, the Erechtheion and the Temple of Athena Nike also resided at the Acropolis of Athens.

An early morning walk along the waterfront and through the old town, before tourists overran the place, was a surprisingly lovely start to a day; capped off with sunset dining in Little Venice after visiting the Windmills of Kato Mili in Mykonos Town, on the island of Mykonos. 

It was the most relaxed Sherlock had been in a long time and the most he had ever seen John relax; he was delighted by it.

The John of London that always held a level of reserve slowly melted away in Santorini with its whitewashed houses with cobalt blue trim and domed roofs in residential areas, where the streets gradually narrowed until they were barely wide enough for two people to pass.

Sherlock patiently chatted with the owner of a trinket stand when John grabbed his hand to get his attention.

“ _Nai, to thélo, se parakaló_ …” John was shaking his head no to a charming little girl of no more than seven years of age, “Sherlock? Can you translate? I think she’s trying to give me this and I’m telling her no thank you, but she insists…”

“Actually, you’re telling her _yes, you want it, please_.” Sherlock clarified, “Ναί is yes, oχι is no. Most languages that use the word _No_ mix the two here. Your words and your reactions confusing her.”

“Oh! I keep forgetting that, no wonder.” John gave the child an apologetic look.

Sherlock looked to the little girl. “τι είναι αυτό?”

The little girl held out what looked like a thimble on a cord. On closer inspection Sherlock realized it was a small bell. Sherlock did everything in his power to not react to the warm hand that still held his as he had a quick conversation with the man and the little girl, his daughter Phaedra, that made Sherlock grin.

“Phaedra said the blue of the cord matches your eyes.” Sherlock enjoyed John’s embarrassed but pleased smile that he was gleefully about to ruin as he gave the bell a little shake, “Then she said it sounded like you when I made you giggle a moment ago. She wants you to have it.”

“Christ! Really?” John gave a disbelieving giggle, and Sherlock rang the little bell again as though proving the point. “Stop it, you git!”

“John. You must accept it now. It would hurt her feelings if you don’t.” Sherlock pouted in all faux innocence.

“Fine!” John laughed and held out his hand to Phaedra. Unfortunately, it was the hand that had held his. Sherlock quickly schooled his face, to hide his disappointment at the loss. He closed his fist and put it in his trouser pocket to hold on to that warmth just a little longer.

“Nai, to thélo, efcharistó.” John said carefully as he graciously accepted the gift and made the little girl and her father smile as they said their goodbyes. “Kalispera!”

Once they were back in London, John unpacked and placed it on a shelf in the sitting room by the window. Sherlock idly picked it up when John had gone to shower one night.

Barely large enough to fit his index finger. One would easily think it a thimble except for it smooth sides, the obvious clapper and its crown through which its deep blue cord was threaded.

A tiny cross was etched on what Sherlock deemed its front.

John’s faith was minor, but Sherlock knew the man had some belief. John observed the trappings of major Christian holidays even though the man himself barely stepped foot in a house of worship except for weddings and funerals.

The bell’s body was surprisingly strong, solid, with the tiniest dent on the curve of the left side. It amused Sherlock to know that part of the bell was called the shoulder. The was also an odd mark on its right side near the lip, that came and went depending on the light, only really noticing it when the bell was in deep shadow. 

Shadows and light – like its owner, who had reverted back to his normal self seemingly the moment their plane landed.

Sherlock tried hard not to think about that man as he coiled the John Watson blue eyes cord around his fingers. The bell warmed in his hand and it reminded him of the trinket stand in Santorini. He tried not to think about the relaxed Grecian John who had held his hand without thought or care. He especially tried not the think about how much he missed that John; how much he wanted John period.

The cord was intertwined around his fingers, he knew he would not get it unwound in time as he heard John approach down the hall from the bathroom. He quickly picked up his bow and rosin to hide it as John said his goodnights and headed up to his room. Only when Sherlock heard the upstairs bedroom door close did he risk unwinding it. He put it back on the shelf and walked away only to come back a moment later to pocket it.

It was too worthy a thing for the eloquence of dust.

He hid it deep in his wardrobe where he only he could see it, touch it.

Sherlock knew John would not miss such a small thing. Just as he knew every time he would see and touch the bell he would think of Grecian John and long for the day when it would also be London John.

**Author's Note:**

> Find out more about Sherlock and the bell here: [Just a Trinket](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29792913)


End file.
